My life before
by Gothicpug
Summary: Spin off from Howl and Howls from a Daedra's island. Teagan is the former bandit turned Companion cousin of Ayah Red-Fury, known as the Dragonborn. From the start, life was rough and it only got rougher. This is the story of his life before Ayah bailed him out of a jail cell in Dawnstar. OC/Ghorza (No Dragonborn) Rating may change for later contents.


My life before.

chapter 1

30 years before Dragonborn.

The wind whistled around the tall spires built from the stone of the mountain. Night had closed in on the city of Markarth quickly, as it did with every city in Skyrim as the freezing Nord winter drew closer. The streets, which bustled in the daytime, had cleared and, with the exception of stragglers and guards, every one of the city's inhabitants had returned to their homes made of stone.

High on one of the peaks that jutted out from the mountain, sat a lone home, its windows glowing with candle light.

The Red-Fury's had lived in the home for generations, like many other families in Markarth had their own homes. They were not an overly wealthy family but it was safe to say they were comfortable, having made their money from owning mines in the area.

The elders of the family, a black haired, grizzled old man named Gunner and his wife Cora, whose own hair was white as the freshly fallen snow, sat beside the family's huge hearth, the fire roaring as they waited for good news.

The couple had been blessed with three boys, all of which were grown by then and had joined the imperial army and Markarth city guards.

Svog, the oldest boy and his father's pride and joy, was, for want of a better word, a scoundrel and a bully. As a boy, he'd been much bigger than many of the other children and stronger too. He'd always used it to his advantage and often got into fights. As an adult, nothing had really changed.

Svog spent a good amount of his time on leave from the army in Cidhna mine for fighting at the tavern, or causing some other disturbance in the city limits.

Andrelheim, Gunner and Cora's middle son, was a quiet boy with a darkness behind his startling blue eyes. He'd inherited his father's jet black hair and stern features. He said very little, but his actions spoke volumes.

Svog had always tried to muscle in on his brother, even as children. But after a fight with Andrelheim that left Svog with a broken leg after falling down the hard stone steps outside the city gates as teens, the oldest brother had given up on trying to dominate the younger sibling and left Andrelheim to his own devices.

Hans, the youngest and possibly most feeble of the Red-Fury boys was the apple of their mother's eye. As a child, and even an adult, Hans was very sickly and had been turned down by the imperial army twice before being accepted into the city guard.

Svog beat on his youngest brother. Andrelheim often came to his defence, but readily chose not to associate himself with Hans, often ignoring him in the street.

At that moment in time however, all three were home with their mother and father, all waiting on tender hooks.

"She'll be ok. I'm sure of it." Hans smiled gently, his voice soft and musical. His brothers often wondered why he'd not chosen to become a bard. He wasn't build for fighting or wrestling with criminals. That much was obvious.

Hans rested his hand on his mother's as she sat beside the fire, the two sharing a worried smile.

In the corner of the room, his eyes glowing in the darkness, Andrelheim sat in silence, as was his way. His eyes burned as they stared, focused on a small mouse that had settled under a cabinet across the room to eat a crumb of bread that had been dropped from the family's earlier meal.

His fingers knitted together and he braced his elbows against his thighs as he hunched forward slightly in his seat.

Svog, along with his father, paced back and forth along the stone floor, one passing the other as they walked.

"How long does this take?!" Svog growled in annoyance. His lack of patients had been inherited from his father.

"I was in Labor for nearly twenty-three hours when I had you." His mother Cora sighed softly.

"A day?!" Svog snapped down at her, turning sharply to pace back toward her and his younger brother.

"Twenty-three hours with you. Fourteen with Andrelheim and seven with Hans." She said, smiling at the youngest boy. "You were such a beautiful baby." She whispered to him, touching his face.

"Woman shut up." Gunner grunted, stopping pacing to sit down beside the fire once more as his back began to ache.

A pained scream came from the back room of the house and everyone paused to listen.

"Oh come on." Svog sneered. "She'd gotta be done by now!?"

"You can't rush these things..." Andrelheim's low voice came from the corner of the room. "The child will come. Be patient."

"Don't tell me what to do!?" Svog snarled at his brother.

Andrelheim didn't even flinch.

Suddenly, the door to Svog's bedroom opened and a priestess of Kynareth stepped out. She'd travelled all the way from Whiterun to attend to Svog's pregnant wife in the final stages of her pregnancy.

The family were silent, all staring at the priestess expectantly.

"I'm sorry..." She said softly.

"She's lost the child?" Cora gasped, her heart breaking.

"Still born...I can continue trying..."

"Try then woman!" Svog yelled at her, causing her to jump. Quickly, she turned and scurried back into the room, leaving the family to wait once more.

"Uncle Andrelheim?"

Andrelheim's attention left his raging brother, who'd begun to pace again and turned to the door to his left.

Shyly peeping around the edge of the huge metal door to her room, Svog's young daughter Val look over to her uncle with sad eyes.

"Come here." She motioned to her with a quiet, even voice.

Without hesitation, she slipped from behind the door and slunk over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck before starting to sniffle.

"Has momma lost the baby? The priestess can save it right?" She asked with a croaky voice as he cuddled her.

"The priestess will do what she can." He told her. "But its the Gods that will decide whether the child is fit for this world."

The family waited for what seemed like an age. Hans tried to comfort their mother, who'd begun to cry at hearing the possible loss of her second grandchild. Gunner growled and glared at his wife, but said nothing.

Svog continued to pace outside the door, his fists clenching and unfurling again as he wore out the stone beneath his feet.

Andrelheim comforted his niece, a job her father should have been doing. But Andrel knew his brother was pig headed. His treatment of his daughter wasn't particularly good at the best of times, so he wasn't surprised at the lack of support he offered her.

Eventually, there came a shrill scream from the room and just like before, the priestess emerged, only this time, carrying a screaming bundle with her.

"Well?" Svog nearly knocked the woman off her feet as he attempted to grab at the child.

"It's a boy. Congratulations..." The priestess said with a disgruntled grunt. Svog took the boy from her, laughing like a mad man.

Finally. A boy.

"So the woman is good for something!" He continued to chuckle, un-tucking the child to get a better look.

"He looks like you." His elderly father smirked, slapping his son on the back proudly.

"what will you call him?" Svog's mother dried her eyes and gingerly got to her feet. Over the years, her joints had stiffened, leaving her in pain and unable to move well.

"Teagan." Svog grinned. "I've had the name picked out since we married. Shame we didn't get to use it first time round." He spat over at Andrel, who was holding Val tight.

Andrel waited for the initial fuss to die down before standing and walking over to his brother to see the child for himself. By then, the boy had stopped screaming. Cora had, with the help of Hans, gone to check on Svog's wife, Sophie. Not that her husband was interested. She'd done her job.

Placing Val down on her feet, Andrel crossed his arms over his chest and leant to look over his new nephew as he lay in his fathers arms.

"Jealous?" Svog spat at his younger brother. "We both know you'll never pass on the family blood. One of use had to and Hans probably hasn't got the balls to, even if he marries that wench from Solitude. Its always up to me to make his family proud." He said smugly.

Andrelheim's expression remained blank, though he nodded slightly.

"I..." He began, his voice quiet. Looking up into his brother's dark eyes with his own piercing ones, Andrel broken into a smirk that sent a chill up his older brother's back. "...Hope your son disappoints you. I hope he turns against you and becomes everything you hate. Because you deserve that." He said flatly before turning away to pick up Val once more and leave the room.


End file.
